Shades of Purple
by superhumanwriter
Summary: Twist on the Purple Wedding. Non canon Sansa/Margaery multi chap
1. Faint

Disclaimer: I do not own anything

AN: I am so sorry! I'm still an active writer, don't you guys worry! I have a lot of stuff to publish. This week is absolutely crazy- I wrote this during finals week!

chapter one

Margaery notices. She notices the conflict on Sansa Stark's face, and the man tugging on her arm and so she does what came naturally. She just acts. She moves almost too quickly, and runs into Sansa. The man lets go of Sansa, while she falls to the ground, he runs and the new queen screams for the guards. Margaery thinks she played a rather convincing damsel in distress. The guards chase him until Margaery could no longer see them, and she leans down to Sansa's face to whisper.

"Close your eyes, I'm going to tell them you fainted." Margaery says and Sansa nods, minutely.

"Someone help! Lady Sansa has fainted!" Margaery shouts, playing her part perfectly. She sees her grandmother's face, and nods-she'll tell her grandmother later. Brienne of Tarth reaches them first, and she checks that Sansa is breathing, they are out of view. They are hidden by the table, and they hear Joffrey's voice-

"Margaery what are you-" and then his voice stops. Sansa opens her eyes and Brienne shoots a look to Margaery. Margaery moves from the ground and to her husband.

"Joffrey!" She shrieks, he's coughing and coughing and his face is turning purple and Cersei screams and it was all loud, too loud, and Sansa really faints.


	2. Gone

Sansa resists the urge to blink, to open her eyes, until she hears Margaery's voice. Margaery, who had always been kind to her.

"They captured the men who killed Joffrey?" Margaery asks, her voice full of hope. Tyrion nods. He doesn't quite know what to make of Margaery Tyrell. Or her fondness of his wife.

"Baelish apparently wanted to steal Sansa and the Iron Throne for himself." Tyrion says the other man's name with disgust. He had always been too bold to play the game, he had always been reckless.

"Oh my. What would have happened to her?" Margaery asks, and Sansa opens her eyes. Tyrion hesitates, and then answers the queen.

"I do not want to even think of it. Nothing good."

"Sansa!" Margaery exclaims, and Sansa feels the new queen hug her.

"Joffrey's dead?" She asks.

"Yes, isn't it dreadful?" Her husband answers and she almost chastises him, but she just says,

"Yes, it is. How are you, Margaery?"

Margaery does not pretend to cry, the effort was not worth it around the married pair who had rather obviously despised Joffrey, at least to her.

"It's likely she will marry Tommen." Tyrion tells the two women. Margaery gestures for Sansa to move a little, and she does. Margaery sits next to her on the bed. Neither of them expected the tears to come out of Sansa's eyes. It hits her then, the finality.

Joffrey is gone. Her family is dead because of her. He's dead for nothing. She does not get comfort from his death, things are worse. Margaery cannot possibly be powerful enough to protect her from anyone, let alone Tyrion.

Tyrion is not an entirely bad husband, but she wants home, she wants her family, she wants to wake up from the nightmare of her life. She doesn't want assassinations and to face the court that saw her beaten, she wants _home._

"I can't believe he's gone." She sobs. She's filled with regret, even now, she's forced to watch her words. All of the humiliation, the pain he caused- and it was a short death. She had lost so much because of Joffrey. Her entire family. It was not Joffrey she mourned. It was Arya, and Robb, Bran and Rickon and her lady mother and lord father. She mourned for Lady and the fact she was the last Stark left.

Margaery seems to sense this, because she pulled the Stark into an embrace and did her best to comfort her, while the Stark heaves heavy gasping breaths.

There's a knock on the door, Tyrion shoots a look at Margaery and opens the door and slips out of the room. A messenger looks anxiously at him.

"What is it?" He asks.

"Cersei, Jaime and Tywin Lannister-" The messenger takes a deep breath.

"They're dead." The messenger informs him, the words come out too loudly, and Sansa sobs harder.


	3. The Lonely and The Kind

"He's gone?" Sansa asks, Margaery's fingers move seamlessly through her hair.

"Yes. Petyr Baelish is dead, along with the man who tried to grab you. They were executed this morning. You're free of him." Margaery assures the Stark.

"But not free of Lannisters." Sansa whispers. Margaery pauses.

"That will change, sweet Sansa. Don't worry." Margaery whispers back.


	4. Divorce, War and Fire

"I've never seen someone with their hair like that." Tyrion tells her, as she is about to sit on the sofa in their room. He notices her stiffen.

"It's a Northern style." She says quietly, like it's treason-

as if a mere sentence is reason for possible execution. If Joffrey was alive, it might have been, but he is the most powerful person in Westeros, Hand to the King, now.

"I didn't know there was anyone in King's Landing who knew Northern hair styles." He says simply. He does not want to quarrel with his wife, he wants wine and sleep.

"I'm the only person I know of who does. I had Margaery braid my hair." She tells him, adjusting the pillow on the sofa. It's an interesting move, an intentional one on her part, he recognizes. She is the last Stark left, still Lady Stark in his mind. She is showing her Northern roots in public, for all to see. A bold choice.

"Do you want a divorce?" He says suddenly. It spills out, like the wine on the table, after Jaime only had a single hand, it had all been so new-iIt seemed so long ago. His brother is dead, his sister too. They're all dead. It all hits then, and he almost topples over, but that might be the wine too-

"Yes." The word slips out of her mouth without her permission. Her eyes dart to her husband, hoping nothing will come from her stupid slip of tongue.

"Thank the gods." Tyrion relaxes, and she is still tense. He notices, and tries to explain it, in kind words.

"I do not wish to be married either. I will ask my nephew to grant us a divorce when the time comes." He tells her, and she still hasn't relaxed.

"What will happen to me, if I am not under your protection as your wife-" She shudders. Then he understands. She views him as the lesser of two evils. He is powerful and can protect her. She craves protection. She needs it, after what she has been through-he tries to think of a solution that will please her.

"Lady Stark. The king and queen are both fond of you. Perhaps you will be sent home." He tries to be comforting. He's never been good at it, and this time is no exception, because she starts crying again.

"I can't go home. The Boltons are in control of the North. If I go home they'll force marry me to one of them so they can take the North from me, again." She sobs. He hadn't bothered with extensively keeping up on news of the North, and that was a surprise. No minor house could take something while a member of the house they served was alive. They are breaking the law. He blinks, he's tired and ready to sleep but he wants Sansa to be reassured. She trusts him, on some level.

"Sansa." He yawns. She looks at him, with those Tully blue eyes, and she looks at him and she looks so much like her mother in that moment, with those eyes and the firelight dying.

"I will ask the king about it tomorrow. We will go to war against the Boltons and win. Do not fret about it." He yawns, and moves onto the bed to sleep. He does, almost instantly. Sansa adjusts the fire, brightens the room. She watches the flames for a long time. Sleep does not come easily.


	5. Burden

There's a knock on the door as Sansa is getting dressed the next morning. Tyrion is gone when she wakes, she can't tell if what she feels when she realizes that is worry or relief-

"Don't come in yet!" Sansa says loudly, she doesn't want anyone to see her in a state of undress. The person at the door does not knock again. Sansa does not hear footsteps leave either, she is tense as she secures her dress and walks to open the door. She stops.

"Who is it?" She asks.

"Margaery." A familiar voice answers. Sansa opens the door, relieved. Margaery is the nearest person to the title of closest friend. Once the title of Jeyne Poole. Sansa hates what the Lannisters had done to her, she had been with her mother and brother when they had been murdered, at Robb's wedding. They had mistaken her for Arya, and they had killed her.

"Sansa?" Margaery's voice interrupts the thoughts, she is in the room, the door closed.

"Hmm?" Sansa says, and she realizes she's been stuck in her own head again.

"Are you all right?" Margaery asks, cautiously laying a hand on her arm. Sansa shakes her head before she realizes it-

"I do not wish to burden you." She says hesitantly, if she does not tell Margaery, her closest friend after Jeyne, who else can she trust, save herself? The question haunts her for a moment, but it's blown away like a leaf in the wind when Margaery moves closer, in her space.

She moves slowly, and Sansa doesn't realize until later, that Margaery was giving her the time to evade the embrace if she wasn't comfortable with it. She embraces Sansa, and rests her chin on Sansa's shoulder.

"It is not a burden to me if the burden is yours." She tells Sansa, and Sansa almost drops to the ground with relief, the idea of telling someone, everything, and not just anyone, _Margaery._ She wraps her arms around Margaery.

They stand together like that, for how long, Sansa has no idea. There's an odd feeling in her stomach, but she ignores it.

"I want to tell you everything." Sansa confesses, like the secret is a sin. Before Margaery had arrived in King's Landing, the idea of telling anyone everything was unthinkable-Sansa would have never done that with anyone but Margaery.

"I'm here to listen." Margaery says gently, and Sansa lets go, and walks, and sits on the bed. Margaery sits on the bed with her, like the day before.

But she's never been so _close_ to Margaery before. Her shoulder is touching Sansa's as the Stark begins with the beginning of her life, what she remembers of her damaged childhood.


	6. Spills, Secrets and Embraces

Sansa tells her everything, even things she doesn't think she'd tell. She tells her how hard she tried at being the perfect lady. She tells Margaery about her relationships with her family, and how she feels about them. It's regret, mostly. Guilt. Margaery doesn't try to placate her. she just listens.

She tells Margaery how she had almost killed Joffrey, how she prayed to the gods during the Battle of Blackwater, that Stannis would win-she tells her of the cruelty of Cersei and the way she was humiliated in front of the court. She tells her of Jeyne, and home, and how things will never be the way they were, ever again. She tells her of the Boltons, breaking the law and how she had hoped Robb would find Arya, and rescue her- and kill the Lannisters. She doesn't mention Tyrion until she talks of the wedding and the humiliation she had felt, even though she feels protected, almost.

Tyrion is the most powerful person in Westeros, but her father had been, too. The pin hadn't saved him, or any other Hand. The pin was no match against a sword. She confesses this to Margaery in hushed whispers, the fact her marriage had not been consummated, and she didn't want to ever consummate with anyone-but she thinks of Margaery's lips against hers, and the odd feeling in her stomach seems to grow.

She tells of the nights she had wished she was dead, with her family. Tears are leaking out of her eyes, and they won't stop, even when all of her words have been spilled out. Margaery just puts her head on Sansa's shoulder.


	7. Promises

"The Boltons will pay for taking your home, I can promise you that, sweet Sansa." Margaery's voice is quiet and reassuring.

"Why?" Sansa asks, in the quiet of the room. Margaery is leaning against her.

"They took your home from you. I cannot imagine my life without Garlan, Willas, Loras, Grandmother and my mother and father. They make up my family. You had an even bigger family than I, and they were killed. I would not wish losing family or home on anyone, and yet they both happened to you. I want the Boltons out of Winterfell like you do." Margaery tells her, and Sansa believes her, but she doesn't understand why. So she asks. At her question, Margaery moves from her side to face her.

"You are my closest friend, Sansa. And I want you to be happy. I will have the power to help you soon, I will marry Tommen and be queen. I will ask Tommen about it at dinner." She tells Sansa, gracefully moving off the bed.

"Margaery-there's something I didn't tell you." Sansa says, and Margaery's face is blank as Sansa readies herself.

"Tyrion and I want a divorce." It spills out. Margaery doesn't look scandalized, like she had almost thought she would, so she continues.

"But I need protection, I do not want to be married against my will again."

"Sansa, I will protect you." Margaery assures her.

"Tommen is a young king. I will help guide him. As long as I am queen, you have nothing to fear." She promises, firmly. And for the first time in a long time, she believes someone else is looking out for her.

"Thank you." She murmurs. Margaery nods, the beginning of a smile on her lips as she leaves the room-dinner will be soon. She must go have her private dinner with Tommen.

Sansa's stomach growls. She hopes there's lemon cake today.


	8. Tears

AN: I'm so sorry! I'm working on another fic and publishing under a different name, and it's like 37 chapters and like 10k and as soon as I get it done I will be updating regularly with this account-also I haven't abandoned any of my stories-don't worry!

She eats with Tyrion, and Shae. It's quiet, too quiet, and she wishes Margaery was there. But she is busy with Tommen, she is the queen, after all and she has no duty to Sansa.

It's fine, she tells herself, and takes a bite of lemon cake. She goes to bed early, and Tyrion does not offer any reassurances to her, he knows she won't listen to them. She dreams of snow and family, she dreams of walking in a beautiful dress to the Godswood, where Bran is hanging out of a tree by his feet. Arya is trying to fight him, but Bran somehow has better angles to deflect her sword, the one Jon had given her. Sansa thinks for a moment, the name escaping her.

Needle. Arya named the sword Needle. Jon was watching carefully, Robb and Rickon are talking, very intensely. They all turn to look at her, at the same time. It all stops. She's not welcome. She takes a step backwards and they're gone, they're all gone, she's the last one left, and she looks into the eyes of one of the Boltons. She shrieks, and wakes up. Her breathing is heavy, and she looks around the room. Right. It's her room, that she shares with Tyrion. It's late morning, judging by the light coming through the windows.

"Sansa?" She hears a concerned voice. One she knows. She opens the door to Margaery, who closes it as soon as she's in the room. Sansa tells her dream as she brushes her hair and gets dressed.

"That sounds awful." Margaery says sincerely. Sansa nods.

"It was."

"I have good news." Margaery tells her, and Sansa looks her in her eyes.

"Tommen agreed to get you the North. He will also grant you a divorce when the time is deemed right." Margaery tells her and Sansa tries to blink away her tears.


	9. It Will All Work Out

AN: I AM SO SORRY GUYS I PUBLISHED LIKE 85 CHAPTERS ON MY OTHER ACCOUNT AND I FEEL TERRIBLE THAT I'VE BEEN NEGLECTING THESE FICS

"Thank you." Sansa says quietly, her voice shakes a little and Margaery wants to hug her again.

"You're welcome." Margaery tells her, and Sansa gives her a watery smile. It strikes Sansa, that she'll have her home soon. She'll be all alone in Winterfell, and Winterfell was home of House Stark. Not just a lone Stark.

"I'm the last Stark left. If I go, I will be going alone." Sansa whispers, and then Margaery does hug her.

"I will make sure you have company there." Margaery promises, and Sansa wants to ask her to come with her-but she can't. Margaery's place is with Tommen, not her. Her stomach drops as Margaery asks her to come to the tailor with her, she wants to get Sansa fitted for a dress for the royal wedding. Sansa nods. Margaery lets go, and looks at Sansa with an expression she's never seen on anyone else's face. She reaches for Sansa's hands, and she lets them be held by the future queen.

"It will all work out." She says, and she means it, and she smiles so widely at Sansa that the Stark allows herself a small smile. Margaery leads her out of the room with her elbow in Sansa's.


	10. Wedding

Margaery's wedding is quieter, a little less grand out of respect for Joffrey. Sansa is next to Loras and Olenna, who are both lovely and kind, but Sansa quietly watches Margaery. There is no one to take her away now. All of her hope is spread between her husband and Margaery. It's a warm day, her dress is very long and graceful-and she feels cold. She wonders what Robb looked like on his wedding day. She wonders what her mother thought as she was marrying her father. Tyrion is next to her, and it's a little reassuring. Not very much though, as cake was passed around.


	11. Dresses and Kindness

She doesn't expect to hear from Margaery until the next day, so she sits in her room with Tyrion, and sews. She works on the dress she's making for Margaery, it's supposed to be below her, but she didn't know where she was anymore. She was high when her family was alive, treated as low during Joffrey's reign. She's somewhere in the middle, she thinks, as she carefully connects a rose to another.

She likes doing it, it gives her something to do. If she thought of stitches and sewing and made it elaborate, her mind had to be on the task at hand. So she does, a long time, alone. Tyrion returns by the time she has to light candles.

"Are you making that for the Queen?" He asks. Sansa nods. She got the measurements for the gown from the woman who had made her dress days prior. He does not understand the relationship his wife has with the Queen, but he respects it.

"It's a lovely gown. I'm sure she'll love it." He compliments and Sansa gives him a small smile. She doesn't want compliments, she wants to wake from this nightmare her life has turned into-but Tyrion is kind. So she tries to be kind as well.

As the candles are dying, he carefully moves her sewing, and puts a pillow under her head.


End file.
